


Bounty

by sdk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/pseuds/sdk
Summary: After her divorce, Ginny discovers a new experience might be just what she needs.





	Bounty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the WeasleyJumpers mini-fest on DW. For the purpose of this story, Hermione and Ron had their epilogue kids while Harry and Ginny did not. Thanks to lq_traintracks for the beta! <3

It was the holster that captured Ginny’s attention first as the woman walked by. Her cloak swung back with her stride, and there it was, a wand tucked snugly against her shapely thigh. She wore denim beneath her cloak—like the Muggle jeans Ginny’s husband—ex-husband—owned. Only his were loose and baggy. Hers…clung to the curve of her leg like a second skin. 

“Ginny.”

“Hmm?” Ginny swung her attention back to her friend’s impatient frown. 

“I asked how you were doing. Really.”

“I’m fine, Hermione.” 

Hermione’s frown didn’t let up, but Ginny just didn’t have it in her to expound on the subject. Merlin knew Hermione meant well and all, but Ginny _was_ fine. And she didn’t know any other way to say it. 

“How’s flat hunting going?”

“Good,” Ginny lied. Truth be told, she’d only seen one place and it was on the outskirts of London with no Floo access, and too far from work. It was the only thing she’d found that she could afford on the galleons she earned at the _Prophet_. But her room here at the Leaky was comfortable and convenient. She didn’t feel the urge to rush. 

“The offer still stands. You could come and stay with Ron and me—Hugo and Rose would love the extra company, I know, and…”

Ginny’s attention drifted away from her friend’s nice but unwanted offer and back to the woman who’d passed by before. She straddled a stool at the bar, legs wide. She tipped her head back to down a shot and her short dark hair fell away from her face. 

“Is that Bulstrode?” Ginny blinked. She could barely believe her eyes. 

“Oh—yes.” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Don’t stare. She might come over and she’s intolerable as ever.”

“You’ve talked to her? Since school?” Ginny took in her broad jaw, the line of her neck, her cropped hair exposing the back of it. Ginny couldn’t find a word for how she felt about Millicent Bulstrode coming over, but it wasn’t intolerable. As she swept her gaze back up, Bulstrode caught her eye. Her lips quirked up at the corner. Heat flared across Ginny’s chest. She quickly averted her gaze. 

“Yes, well…not much, just sometimes when I visit Ron at work, she’s there. She’s brought in a few wanted wizards that the Aurors haven’t managed to catch—they would have, eventually, but—it’s making the department look rather bad.”

“She’s a bounty witch?” Ginny perked up at that, and her mind, of its own volition, wandered off into a darkened alley with Bulstrode. She perched in the shadows, cloak whipping around her ankles, with Ginny before her, helpless in her wand’s crosshairs.

“Yes, and apparently quite a good one,” Hermione grudgingly acknowledged, “though Harry told me that he’s not sure her methods are… Oh, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Ginny ripped herself free from the fantasy and found Hermione’s compassionate gaze firmly in play. She barely resisted rolling her eyes.

“Well I mentioned, him, and—”

“You can say his name.”

“Ginny…” 

“You can talk about him. It isn’t as though it wasn’t amicable. It wasn’t messy. There wasn’t a big fight. We’re just not together anymore.”

“Right—I’m still…I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

Hermione was sounding more and more like her mother these days, treading carefully as if with one false step, she’d trip into a Bat Bogey Hex. Though it was tempting, to be sure. But instead of grabbing her wand, Ginny clenched her hands beneath the table. She took a deep breath and slowly eased them open. 

“You should explore a new hobby,” Hermione said. 

“What?”

“Or perhaps develop an old one? Now that you’re not playing Quidditch professionally, I bet you could coach students during the summer—perhaps put together a just-for-fun league? Sounds like a fun project!”

“Something to take the time I had spent shagging my ex, is that what you mean?” The words came out sharp and swift before Ginny could stop them. “Because if you’re really so hard up to know every detail, we weren’t doing that much shagging in the last few years anyway, so I doubt there’s enough time to set up a whole new Quidditch league in my schedule.” 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed as if she’d been slapped. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry.” Ginny exhaled a long breath. “I’m just—tired, Hermione. I’m starting at the bottom rung at the _Prophet_ and the hours are long. It sounds like a brilliant idea—just, no time.” Ginny took a long swallow of her ale, draining it. She wished she’d ordered something stronger. She wished Hermione didn’t have half a butterbeer left on the table. 

“Do you want another?”

“No.” Ginny was becoming an expert at lying. “I just want to—I’m sorry, Hermione, but I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I was tired.”

“Oh—I should let you go upstairs then.” Thankfully Hermione abandoned her butterbeer and stood. Ginny didn’t even mind the extra long hug Hermione pushed on her, the relief she’d be leaving so great. 

“It’s good to see you.” Hermione squeezed her shoulders. “Come to dinner, please. Maybe tomorrow?”

Ginny forced a smile. “I’ll try.” 

Another lie.

Ginny waved, then waited until Hermione stepped through the Floo before sagging back into her chair.

She really could use another drink.

As if she’d summoned it, moments later a glass dropped down on the table before her—dark liquid, steaming at the top. She looked up and found Millicent Bulstrode standing over her.

“Where did you come from?” 

“The bar,” Bulstrode said, quirking one eyebrow as she very well knew that Ginny had been aware of her presence long before she’d come over. She didn’t bother to ask—just dropped her cloak in a chair, gifting Ginny with one more tantalizing look at her thigh holster before she sat down across the table, holding her own drink.

“You looked like you could use it,” she said, nodding at the firewhiskey. 

Ginny nodded, mouth suddenly parched. “Thanks.” She told herself she was merely accepting the drink to skip the walk to the bar—and after making polite chit-chat with Hermione for an hour, she definitely needed the soothing burn and the instant ease that only a sip of whiskey could provide.

And something to calm the jitters flaring up in her stomach. And below if she was being strictly honest with herself. She tried and failed to keep her gaze away from the deep v-neck of Bulstrode’s shirt. Not that the v-neck was the problem. It was her breasts beneath the v-neck, enticingly full and begging to be let out. There were times when Ginny was younger that she’d wished for breasts such as these—her own small and tight and barely a handful. But she’d discovered the joys of that fairly quickly, how her tits could fit in the palms of someone’s hands…like Bulstrode’s—hers could more than handle the task. Ginny’s nipples tingled just thinking about it—Bulstrode’s calloused fingers, which were currently lazily brushing along the side of her glass; they’d be put to much better use brushing along the side of Ginny’s breasts, or raking her palms over her nipples—capturing one with a squeeze between her fingers and tugging ever so slightly. 

Ginny swallowed a mouthful of whiskey and let the burn soothe her nerves. She’d said no more than a handful of words to Bulstrode, but what did that matter? She wasn’t some shy, delicate flower. She wasn’t afraid. Inexperienced, perhaps, but…with the current state of her knickers, that didn’t feel like much of an obstacle. 

And she knew Bulstrode was interested; Ginny always had a sense about these things, but with the way Bulstrode stared at her, open and hungry—she wasn’t even trying to hide it. 

Ginny couldn’t remember the last time her husband had looked at her that way. 

Not husband. _Not._ Ginny tamped down that stray thread of guilt threatening to worm its way around her courage. It might be new, but Ginny was most definitely single. And her heart might be thumping faster in her chest and her stomach might be practising its best Wronski Feint, but Ginny wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing. 

She drained her drink and set the glass back on the table with a decisive thunk.

“Another?” Bulstrode asked. She licked her lips, and that sealed it. 

“No,” Ginny said. 

This time she wasn’t lying. 

—

They made their way up the stairs to Ginny’s room in silence. Ginny figured Bulstrode wasn’t one to waste time on small talk and when they arrived, she discovered Bulstrode wasn’t one to waste time, full stop. She’d barely gotten the door shut when Bulstrode pressed her against it, bracing herself with a hand on the wall next to Ginny’s head. Her other drifted lower, teasingly close to Ginny’s hip. But to Ginny’s disappointment, she made no further move. She just stood there, raking her eyes up and down Ginny’s body. She might have had a couple inches on Ginny, but the difference felt all the greater this close. Ginny clenched her thighs together, arousal prickling up from her skin wherever Bulstrode’s gaze swept, but she found no relief, only a deepening ache. 

“I’d offer you a drink but—” It was a sad attempt at a joke to be sure, and Ginny didn’t even know why she said it—she didn’t want to delay matters for fuck’s sake, but Bulstrode cracked a smile and leaned in close. 

“We both know that’s not why we’re here.” 

Ginny’s breath came fast as Bulstrode’s lips hovered over hers, but instead of a kiss, Bulstrode ducked and skimmed her lips along a path to Ginny’s neck. She tugged on Ginny’s shirt and slipped her hand beneath, and then she went still—agonizingly still—and let out a soft breath against Ginny’s fluttering pulse. Ginny felt mad with want. She curled her fingers into Bulstrode’s belt loops but she really wanted to spread her legs and shove Bulstrode’s hand between them and ride her until she fell apart. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Bulstrode asked, sending another teasing breath against Ginny’s neck. 

“H-had sex? Yeah—” Ginny spluttered, though as soon as she answered she knew that wasn’t what Bulstrode meant. _Have you ever been with a woman before?_ was the implied question; Ginny didn’t think perfecting her kissing technique with Lavender in fourth year counted. 

“Relax,” Bulstrode breathed. Her fingers slid deftly up Ginny’s torso and when they fluttered over the cup of her bra, Ginny shuddered. No wonder Bulstrode thought she was a virgin. “I just want to know if I should take it slow.”

 _Fuck, not slow!_ was Ginny’s first thought. She must have voiced it because Bulstrode chuckled, then scraped her teeth against Ginny’s neck. She palmed Ginny’s tit, thumbing her nipple through her bra. Ginny managed to grab her wand, and with a shaky voice, Banished it. 

She never did like that bra anyway. 

Bulstrode drew back, her eyes alit with desire. She brushed her thumb over Ginny’s bare nipple, again and once more. Ginny leaned back against the door, her eyes falling closed, and she thrust her hips forward, unfortunately meeting nothing. 

“I love you eager,” Bulstrode murmured. “Turn around.” 

Ginny wasn’t in any state to resist even if she had wanted to, and Merlin, how she did not want to. She let herself be handled, hips turning in Bulstrode’s grip. Her forehead fell to the door as Bulstrode’s hands slid everywhere, grasping Ginny’s tits, dancing over her bare torso, tugging on the clasp of her trousers. Every touch felt magnified—Ginny couldn’t remember the last time she felt so in her body, so aware of every sensation Bulstrode elicited with her hands, with her breasts pressed against Ginny’s back, with the playful graze of teeth at her nape. Ginny’s trousers, now loose, were pushed to the floor and finally _finally_ Bulstrode dipped below the elastic of her knickers. 

A zing shot through her body when Bulstrode slipped a finger inside her. It went in easy. So easy.

“So wet.” Bulstrode’s voice turned ragged. Ginny bucked into her hand, but Bulstrode refused to be rushed. She eased in and out of her in a slow, measured pace until Ginny’s legs were quivering and helpless whimpers fell from her lips. 

“Please—Bulstrode—bed, I need—” 

“I’ve got you,” Bulstrode whispered. She brushed her lips over Ginny’s shoulder and withdrew, and Ginny instantly ached with the lack of her. But she made it to the bed, slipping her shirt and sodden knickers off along the way. She looked over her shoulder, flush under Bulstrode’s gaze. The want she found there…she could see her own reflected in Bulstrode’s eyes. 

“How do you want me?” It wasn’t a role Ginny usually liked, but with Bulstrode, she felt different. She wanted to be commanded, pushed around, arranged the way Bulstrode desired. She felt free to just lie back and take whatever Bulstrode wanted to offer. 

“On your back.”

Ginny propped herself on the bed, leaning against a stack of pillows, completely bare for Bulstrode’s pleasure. She spread her legs and she swore she heard Bulstrode growl. The only thing she removed was her holster, unsnapping it and throwing it on a side table before she stalked over and knelt between Ginny’s open thighs. She hiked up Ginny’s legs, wrapping them around her waist. The denim felt cool and smooth against Ginny’s skin. Bulstrode’s tits were still hidden away by that damned v-neck, but when Ginny reached for her, Bulstrode grabbed her wrist and held it against the headboard. 

“Do I need to tie you up?” 

A perverse thrill shot through her. She shook her head no, but thought, _Maybe. Maybe._

But Ginny decided to be a good girl. She held onto the headboard as Bulstrode stroked her thighs, thumbs grazing over her cunt. Bulstrode spread her open, and then fucked two fingers into her knuckle-deep. Ginny pumped her hips, awash in sensation. Pleasure arched through her with each thrust and when Bulstrode swirled a thumb over her clit, Ginny was lost. Her whole body drew impossibly tight. She curled her fingers into the headboard, anchoring herself against the bucking of her hips and Bulstrode fucked, and fucked, and fucked into her until Ginny shook all over crying out. Pleasure shot through her at a terrifying speed. She pulsed hard against Bulstrode’s hand, clamping around her fingers, and she came with a great scream before falling back into the bed. 

Her legs went slack. Bulstrode stroked her gently, over her thighs, her stomach, and Ginny lost herself in the afterglow of bliss. 

-

Ginny absently felt Bulstrode backing off the bed, but when she snapped her holster on, Ginny snapped back into awareness. She leveraged up on her elbows and found Bulstrode straightening her clothes, though she looked as smartly put together as she had down in the pub. Ginny felt every inch a debauched mess, but when Bulstrode looked at her with those same hungry eyes she had before, Ginny found she didn’t mind one bit. 

“Leaving already? But I haven’t—you haven’t—” 

“I’ve got work, but believe me, I’m fully satisfied.”

Ginny flushed with heat. Somehow both of those things only renewed her arousal. 

“See you around, Weasley,” Bulstrode said. But Ginny slipped off the bed and caught her by the door.

“Wait—just wait.” Ginny licked her lips. She gazed into Bulstrode’s eyes and decided, _fuck it_ , and went in for a kiss. Just a light press—she wasn’t going to push. But Bulstrode grabbed her by her waist, yanked her close and opened her mouth to her, inviting Ginny inside. Their tongues touched and Ginny felt a spark go through her. Bulstrode groaned and pulled away. Her breath came a bit faster and she shook her head before she let Ginny go. 

“I really have to leave,” she said. 

“Who’s stopping you?” Ginny grinned cheekily. “Though maybe you’ll give me a chance to, uh…even the score?” 

“Next time,” Bulstrode said. “Maybe.” Her lips curled upwards and Ginny felt the promise in those words. 

She leaned against the door as she watched Bulstrode walk down the hall and disappear to the stairs. Next time…Ginny already had a lot of ideas about the next time. Bulstrode would be back. If nothing else, Ginny was certain of that.


End file.
